


A Bard and a Witcher Meet on an Open Road

by nitrogen_and_crisis



Series: Witcher, Bard, and Goat [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, M/M, Peace and quiet, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Sad Jaskier | Dandelion, Touch-Starved Eskel (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25257175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitrogen_and_crisis/pseuds/nitrogen_and_crisis
Summary: Jaskier and Eskel's first meeting.(This will make sense if you haven't read the others, but it's more fun if you do.)
Relationships: Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher, Bard, and Goat [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799704
Comments: 27
Kudos: 235





	A Bard and a Witcher Meet on an Open Road

**Author's Note:**

> This took me longer to write than it justifiably should have. The next one will be back to the main story I promise. It's probably even going to have to have chapters. I am going to die.
> 
> Thanks to Charlie for beta reading for me and giving me ideas.

Eskel is starting to seriously regret coming this far north. He’d been looking for Geralt; Eskel had heard a few too many rumors for comfort that he’d died during a contract, but he’d found enough proof of Geralt’s continued existence as he traveled that actually finding him was now unnecessary. Not that he didn’t still want to see his brother, but he was probably busy with his bard, and Eskel really shouldn’t bother them. So now Eskel is stuck in the north for an awkward amount of time with nowhere near enough time to head back to where he usually hunts but just enough time before winter sets in to head to Kaer Morhen.

His entire time in the north has been a relative disaster too. He’d been having troubles getting contracts, and the givers of contracts kept trying to wriggle out of paying him, which wasn’t anything new, but it usually happened with a little less frequency. It didn’t help that most of the towns he visited were used to Geralt who, while still being a witcher, wasn’t quite so hulking and whose face wasn’t destroyed. People seemed to be more scared of him in the absence of Geralt, and usually asked for or about him when Eskel tried to acquire contracts. Just to add insult to injury, some assholes had galloped past and cut open his saddle bags, spilling is stuff all over the roadside. They hadn’t given a reason, but it wasn’t hard for Eskel to guess that it had something to do with his last contract, where he’d been too late to save a girl kidnapped by a werewolf.

That’s how Eskel found himself here, somewhere on the road outside of a town he’s just been run out of, attempting to stitch up his saddle bags while trying to prevent Lil’ Bleater from eating a hole one of his shirts.

Distantly, he registers that someone is approaching the spot where he’s sitting, trying to get his saddle bags back into semi-working condition. For a second he hopes that maybe they’ll leave him alone and not go out of their way to kick a witcher who’s down on his luck, but then the footsteps stop, only to start up again making a beeline towards him. So much for wishful thinking.

“Do you, uh… do you need any help there?” a male voice asks, and Eskel whips around to look at the owner, a rather startled looking man in a bright red doublet. Eskel stares blankly at him, trying to get his offer and lack of fear scent to fit into reality. The man doesn’t seem off-put by Eskel being a witcher at all.

When Eskel fails to respond, the man shrinks back a little, taking Eskel’s silence as rejection. Eskel all but panics at the man’s dejected look, and before he can actually rescind the offer Eskel manages to find his voice.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Eskel tries to speak softly so that he doesn’t scare the man. He’s been reliably told that his voice sounds has all the charm of barking dogs, and he likes being around people that aren’t afraid of him.

“I’m Eskel, by the way,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Jaskier, traveling bard,” Jaskier responds, kneeling to help Eskel gather his things while Eskel continues his attempt at stitching. The name is familiar, but it still takes Eskel a couple of minutes to place it.

“Geralt’s bard?” he asks, and Jaskier’s head snaps up faster than Eskel would’ve thought was good for his neck.

“I’m not Geralt’s anything. He made that perfectly clear,” he responds stiffly, but Eskel doesn’t miss the sniffle Jaskier tries to hide.

Come to think of it, Jaskier looks absolutely miserable. Whenever Geralt talks about the strange bard that’s taken to following him, he always mentions his bright colors, carefully chosen wardrobe, and cheerful, confident manner. This Jaskier looks unkempt, like he hasn’t bothered to change clothes in a few days, his hair is a mess, and his eyes are rimmed red.

Lil’ Bleater saves Eskel from having to come up with either a response or an apology by rubbing up against Jaskier in an attempt to get petted. It’s very clear Jaskier hasn’t interacted much with goats, or at least goats that actively demand to be petted, and Eskel chuckles quietly as Jaskier gets progressively more flustered.

“She wants you to pet her,” Eskel says, taking pity on him.

“Oh, is that what you want?” Jaskier asks the goat. Lil’ Bleater rubs against him again. “Yes, yes, hello. I’m trying to help your owner pick up his belongings here,” he responds in an attempt to shoo the goat off.

“Lil’ Bleater does what she wants. If you ignore her for long enough she’ll get bored,” Eskel offers. It’s easier to talk about his goat than whatever happened between Geralt and his bard. He gets a soft snort out of Jaskier for his troubles, so he counts it as a success.

“You named your goat Lil’ Bleater? That’s… oddly adorable. I didn’t think you witchers had it in you!”

Eskel ducks his head and scratches at his scar absentmindedly. He’s aware getting attached to a goat wasn’t exactly his finest witchering hour, but he couldn’t help it. He’ll be the first to admit he gets attached to cute things that tolerate his existence and don’t flinch away from his scars too quickly.

“So what happened to your saddle bags anyways? Those don’t look like normal wear-and-tear rips.”

“Some guys, ah, cut them open. I sort of, botched a contract and they weren’t very happy about it.” 

That’s really only half of the story, but it’ll do. He really doesn’t want to explain to Jaskier that the woman he’d been paid to save from a werewolf was ripped in half in front of him because he took too long trying to track the thing. Jaskier doesn’t hate him yet, and Eskel really doesn’t want him to. And Geralt, whose techniques Jaskier would be used to, has always been a better tracker than Eskel. It’s not a very forgivable mistake from that perspective. It’s not really forgivable from any perspective.

“Where are you headed?” Eskel blurts out, trying to avoid giving Jaskier the opportunity to ask any more questions about the saddle bags or the contract.

“Oh, down to Oxenfurt for the winter. That’s my end goal anyways. I’ve got some time to get down there.” 

When Eskel doesn’t give anymore of a reply than a quiet hum of acknowledgement, unsure of what to say next, Jaskier asks, “What about you then? Where are you headed?”

“I’m…” Where was he headed again? “I’ve got about two weeks to kill before I head up to Kaer Morhen for the winter.” And then, maybe because Jaskier looked so miserable while being so nice to Eskel and possibly because Jaskier falls right into the category of things Eskel gets attached to too fast, he tacks on, “Would you, would you like to travel with me until then?”

Jaskier stares at him, mouth slightly agape and Eskel opens his mouth to go into damage control mode, but Jaskier gets a response out before he can even figure out what to say.

“Sure, why not?” He’s attempting to sound cheerful, but Eskel can practically hear the many reasons why not that Jaskier has thought of coloring his voice. He doesn’t push his luck though — just shoots Jaskier a smile that hopefully doesn’t twist his scar too much.

The two weeks Eskel spends with Jaskier go better than Eskel could have ever hoped for. His offer had been rather spur of the moment — he’s still not really sure what made him extend it in the first place — but it was nice having someone to travel with, and Jaskier didn’t seem to hate it either. He’d taken to defending Eskel and witchers in general whenever people tried to underpay him or got to a certain level of rudeness. None of what was done was out of the ordinary, but Jaskier acted like it was some new, unforgivable crime. It was… sweet, in a way.

Jaskier has also taken to touching Eskel quite liberally. Usually, no one would even brush against him unless he paid them, and even then they always smell like fear and it’s quite clear he repulses them. Eskel doesn’t get that sense with Jaskier though. He knocks into him playfully, pats his shoulder, elbows him in the ribs. He even gave him a hug once, when he thought Eskel had died fighting an arachnomorph. Eskel had taken longer coming back than he said he would, and when he’d finally shown up back at the inn Jaskier had practically thrown himself into his arms, wrapping Eskel in a tight hug. It reaggravated the wound across his back, but Eskel didn’t mind because nobody had ever hugged him like that for as long as he could remember. Jaskier hadn’t done it since, but that was fine. Even one hug was more than Eskel had ever expected.

Their last night together is spent camping. Tomorrow they will go to Ard Carraigh. Eskel will buy his supplies for the trek up to Kaer Morhen and Jaskier will spend the night in an inn before setting out for Oxenfurt. For now, though, they huddle around the small fire Eskel has built, Jaskier playing a soft tune on his lute and Eskel taking stock of what he will need to buy tomorrow. Lil’ Bleater is curled up at Jaskier’s feet and the weight of the moment suddenly slams into Eskel full-force. This is the last time he will have this. This easy sort of night together, Jaskier’s music, the casual touches, having someone to talk to, not being alone anymore, and the thought coils around his ribcage, making it uncomfortably hard to breathe.

“Jaskier, would you—” The question sits heavy on his tongue. Jaskier just looks at him quietly, waiting.

“Would you like to meet up again in the spring?” His right hand scratches at his scar without his permission, and his whole chest squeezes in on itself. He purposely stares at the fire, Lil’ Bleater, anywhere but Jaskier.

“Of course! I’d love to Eskel!” Eskel snaps his gaze up to look at Jaskier, who is beaming and rambling about how much he’s enjoyed his time with Eskel and how much inspiration he got out of it. The tight feeling unwinds itself all at once and Eskel becomes aware of a small smile making its way across his own face.

Jaskier wants to see him again. Jaskier wants to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Charlie keeps yelling at me for the way I end these. She can't stop me though.


End file.
